


The Hazards of Pining

by staymagical



Series: Keithtober 2019 [18]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: And Lance isn’t a farmer, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Except Allura is alive, Keithtober 2019, Klancetober 2019, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Post-Canon, pre-Keith/Lance - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2020-12-28 10:03:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21134918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staymagical/pseuds/staymagical
Summary: Keith saves Lance from an ill-intentioned fan.See, Keith thought he had gotten a handle on his crush. Flying off into space for months at a time with no Lance in sight should have cured him of his frivolous pinning.Except it didn’t. It just made it worse. A hell of a lot worse.Distance making the heart grow fonder and all that shit.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Keithtober Day 20 & 21: Strength and Formalwear
> 
> Post S8 (except Allura is alive, of course)

Keith is sure the universe is testing him today.

Well, it tests him most days, honestly. But today, it’s pulling out all the stops. 

They’ve been invited to a ball of sorts, a celebration of the anniversary of Earth’s liberation from the Galra. So, of course, Voltron is expected to attend.

They’re also expected to don their finest.

And therein lies Keith’s first problem. It’s not that he doesn’t have any formal wear in his sparse closet, because he does now thanks to Shiro’s insistence. No, his tux and his utter disdain for it isn’t the problem here.

It’s Lance. Specifically the exquisitely tailored blue tux he had custom made for just such events. The way is shows off his lean figure, how it hugs him in all the right places, defining his body and yet leaves enough to the imagination. How it bolsters his confidence and straightens his spine until he’s all sharp angles and smooth flirting lines. 

It’s absolute torture.

See Keith thought he had gotten a handle on his crush. Flying off into space for months at a time with no Lance in sight should have cured him of his frivolous pinning. 

Except it didn’t. It just made it worse. A hell of a lot worse.

Distance making the heart grow fonder and all that shit. 

And Keith can’t just avoid Lance while he’s back on earth. No, because that would be a whole other torture in and of itself.

So he silently prays for the strength to withstand the rapid beating of his heart and the pull of his yearning and just endures Lance in all his glory.

Curse these damn celebrations.

Keith throws back another drink, this one pink and bubbly and oddly warm as it slides down his throat. Another replica of an alien concoction, perhaps? He doesn’t really care either way. It’s doing the job of masking the ache in his chest and distracting him from the dizzying picture Lance makes.

Well, maybe less of the latter. 

His gaze is drawn once more toward the far wall where Lance had recently taken up residence with a few of his Garrison colleagues, students and admirers, regaling them with tales of their adventures, no doubt. 

But when Keith searches for him now, Lance is gone.

It doesn’t take long to locate him in the crowd again—something Keith will wholeheartedly deny he has become extremely adept at—but this time, he is no longer with his colleagues or students. Instead, there’s a blonde woman on his arm, elegantly dressed and slowly but surely leading Lance toward the lobby and beyond that, the exit. 

A very wobbly and swaying Lance, at that.

Keith immediately knows that something isn't right.

They’ve all had their fair share of overbearing fans and leeches since the war ended, Allura more than most due to her alien and royal lineage. Famediggers as Lance coined them— _ Get it, like golddigger except they just want our fame _ . People who want to get close just to catch a few rays of their limelight by saying they were friends or worked with them or had interactions.

Or slept with them.

It’s become an increasing problem, one that Keith has been expertly avoiding by running off into space. But he’s still had his fair share of women and men sidling up to him to try and coax him into their beds or milk some sort of veneer of friendship from him. All just to say they had an intimate interaction with a paladin of Voltron.

It’s why he hates these sort of events. The guest list is tailored to prevent such a thing but somehow, a few always manage to weasel their way in.

And the woman currently leading a clearly very drunk and stumbling Lance subtly toward the exit just screams famedigger.

Keith is weaving through the throngs of people before he’s even aware of what he’s doing, ignoring the chatter and friendly greetings aimed his way. He doesn’t care, all he has eyes for is Lance being nearly dragged by the arm by some unknown woman and  _ no one is doing a goddamn thing _ . 

Miraculously, Lance spots him when he’s just a few feet away, just as they are crossing the mostly empty lobby. He staggers against the woman’s insistent tugging as he tries to double back with a huge beaming grin.

“Keith! Keith Keith Keith,” Lance repeats his name a bit to enthusiastically, blinking heavily and swaying in the woman’s hold. His voice echoes through the room, a few octaves too high in his obviously drunk state. 

And that more than anything, worries Keith. Because, his pitiful pinning has forced his gaze to search out Lance every few minutes like a magnet drawn to its other half. So he knows just how much Lance has drunk tonight and it is certainly not enough to warrant such a state so soon. 

Keith steps closer then, taking note of Lance’s flushed cheeks and hazy eyes. His suspicions and worry spike. 

“Lance. You okay?” He gives the woman nearly wrapping herself around Lance a sidelong glare.

“I’m fine,” Lance slurs even as he stumbles forward. “Dru—drunkier than I—whoa—thought.” He rights himself, leaning a bit to the right against the woman and beaming. “Your face is dizzy.”

Keith shakes his head and he knows, he just knows that Lance isn’t merely drunk. He’s seen him drunk a few times and he’s never like this. Surprisingly, Lance is quite skilled at holding his liquor and proficient enough at determining his limit.

Right now, he looks like he’s well beyond his limit after just one and a half drinks. Which can only mean there is a little more than just alcohol clogging his senses right now.

Keith scowls at the woman.

“Okay, perhaps that’s enough excitement for you tonight.” He steps up to take Lance from the woman but she suddenly tugs him toward the exit again and out of his reach.

“I was just about to take him back home,” she says, pulling on him some more. Lance is all but putty in her arms, following her urges effortlessly. “Come on Lancey boy.”

Fear spikes through Keith.

“Uh, no,” he says, quickly closing the distance and grabbing Lance’s free arm. The woman halts, a flash of annoyance crossing her features before she smoothes them into innocence again. And oh, yeah, Keith is more than convinced of her ill intentions now. “I think it’s best I do that. He can’t give directions in this state.”

“I’m fiiiine,” Lance mumbles. They both ignore him.

The woman smiles then, lips dripping with the slime of deception. “No, really it’s no trouble.” She tries to pull Lance away again but Keith holds on. And when he looks at where she’s grabbing him, he can see the effort she’s putting into keeping him with her, how her nails are digging into his suit sleeves.

Keith drops all niceties and steps up next to the woman.

“Let him go,” he growls, deep and threatening.

Her eyes go wide, as if just now realizing who exactly she was talking to and what he was capable of. “What is wrong with you?!” she screams, letting her true anger show. She scrunches her nose in disgust and sneers, “Leave him alone, he can do what he wants.”

But Keith just ignores her, his attention focused all on Lance who is slowly becoming more and more unsteady, his head hanging low.

“Lance?” Keith asks, leaning down to try and catch Lance’s sagging gaze. “Hey, you with me?”

With effort, Lance raises his head a fraction. “Keith,” he says, drawing out the vowels with a dopey smile.

And then he all but flops into Keith’s arms.

Keith staggers under his weight but quickly manages to steady them both. He glances up at the woman with a huff. “Ok, guess that settles that. You can leave now.”

She stands there for a beat, anger and shock pulling at her features before releasing Lance’s limp arm and turning on her heels with a few slurs muttered under her breath. But Keith pays her no mind. Right now he’s a little more concerned with Lance who seems to be out of sorts. More out of sorts than the one and a half drinks he nursed thus far tonight.

Keith shifts Lance in his arms, hoisting him up a bit to get a better look at him. He’s nearly pliant in his arms but he’s still awake. “Lance? hey, I’m going to take you home okay?”

“Mmm yeah sounds—sounds nice,” Lance mumbles into Keith’s chest. And god he’s so warm and boneless and his hands are wandering a bit into unregistered territory. He’s doing things to Keith’s heart that he does not want to think about right now. “I’ve always wanted to go home with you.”

Keith is absolutely sure he’s blushing all the way to his toes right now. “Uh, okay,” he stutters out, not really sure how to respond to that. Or even what to make of it. “Shit.” Does Lance—no, he can’t think about that right now. Focus.

It takes a bit of finangaling to get them moving again and a lot more praying for strength as Keith is forced to dodge Lance’s wandering hands and very obvious come-ons. But he finally manages to get them both into a waiting hover car and, with brief instructions to the driver, they’re off toward Lance’s house on the outskirts of town.

The universe tests Keith the entire ride there with a very handsy Lance. 

He’s grateful when they finally make it to Lance’s house and he can focus more on carrying a pliant Lance to the door and balancing him there while he fishes Lance’s keys out. And that in itself is another challenge as Lance takes the hand in his pocket as a return of his affections and leans in to kiss Keith.

“Lance, stop,” Keith begs, dodging the advance. Because god this is pure torture. This is exactly what Keith wants in the worst way possible. He’s pretty sure Lance wouldn’t even be doing or saying any of these things if he weren’t drugged out of his mind right now.

And that is a whole other pain in and of itself.

Keith finally gets the door open and drags Lance as quietly as possible up the stairs and into his bedroom, laying him down on the bed.

By this time, Lance is nearly unconscious, his eyelids fluttering. But Keith can’t just leave him here in this state. Who knows what sort of side effects that drug could have on his body. 

So he steals himself one last time and carefully relieves Lance of his clothes, trying desperately not to think about how this could have happened under very different circumstances had he not intervened when he did. Keith shudders.

After Lance is comfortably tucked under the covers, a glass of water and a few advil set up on his bedside table for when he wakes—because Keith knows he’ll have one hell of a headache come morning—Keith strips off his suit jacket. After a brief argument with himself, he gently sits down on the bed next to Lance, wary not to jostle him too much.

He’s very aware of their proximity, can practically feel the warmth from Lance’s body against his thigh. He shifts a little further away. 

Finally, with a sigh, Keith leans back against the headboard and settles in for a long night of keeping watch.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after, Lance doesn't remember a thing but he does remember some other things. Keith struggles to keep up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keithtober Day 24 & 25: Confession and Memories

Keith hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but that’s usually how it goes, isn’t it? Like some cheesy rom-com where the love interests accidentally wake up in each other’s arms. 

Except the lead up was in no way romantic nor humorous and the love unrequitedly one-sided.

What a depressing movie.

But Keith is warm and oh so comfortable with the solid weight pressed against his chest and body. And when he opens his eyes to meet Lance’s blue wide-eyed stare, for a moment, he thinks everything is right in the world, that this is how he was always meant to wake up.

Until reality comes knocking and Keith nearly chokes on his sleepy greeting to scramble away just as Lance does the same.

Keith launches off the bed and stumbles to his feet with a croaked, “Shit, sorry.”

For a moment, they both just stare at each other, Lance still half sprawled on the bed—his bed, quiznack Keith fell asleep on Lance’s bed with Lance—eyebrows raised above a perplexed expression. 

“What happened?” He whispers, voice hoarse and rough. He coughs, swallows and then looks down at his barely clothed body and then back up at Keith with fear in his eyes. “Did we—”

“No!” Keith nearly shouts in his rush to dispel that train of thought. Lance winces at his volume. He quiets, nearly whispering when he continues, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“What are you doing here?” Lance’s furrowed brow deepens, eyes scrunched in pain as he rests his head in his hands. “Quiznak, my head.”

“Uh, here.” Keith scoops up the Advil he left on the bedside table last night, popping one out and handing it over with the glass of water. There’s a beat of hesitation before Lance takes the offerings with a curious lift of his brow. “Someone slipped something into your drink last night, I think. You seemed pretty out of it.”

All the color drains from Lance’s face. “Oh god.” He throws back the Advil and water in one go, tossing the empty glass onto the bed before flopping back to bury his face in the pillow. A muffled groan escapes. 

Keith shuffles his feet and rubs a hand along his nape, unsure what to do with himself. Should he just leave? Is that rude? Does Lance even want him here anymore? Probably not if the embarrassed shameful groans sounding from the pillow are anything to go by. He clearly doesn’t remember a thing from that night which is just as well. Keith blushes just thinking about what Lance had said. What he’d done. 

Quiznak, those hands.

Lance startles Keith out of pleasant—unpleasant?—thoughts of wandering fingers on thighs when he suddenly sits up. He gestures between them. “And we didn’t—”

“No,” Keith says quickly, with a placating shake of his head. “You really think I would do that to you?”

Just the thought of someone else forcing themselves on Lance has Keith’s stomach twisting, nausea churning in his gut. But himself? He’d rather die than hurt Lance like that.

And the thought that Lance would think so lowly of him sends a sharp pain through his chest.

It’s only soothed somewhat when Lance immediately mirrors Keith, shaking his head, tone insistent. “No, of course not. I just know that I can be a bit,” he glances down at his hands, red coloring his cheeks, “overbearing.”

Overbearing is not the word Keith would have used. Flirty, insatiable, endearing, intoxicating perhaps. Though he can’t really correct Lance without giving away his true feelings or making it seem like he enjoyed Lance in such a state. Which he didn’t, truthfully. It was more the veneer of a blatant return of his own feelings than he enjoyed. But it was nothing more than a trick of the light brought on by a mind-altering drug. 

That wasn’t Lance. That would never be Lance. And Keith would rather have the real Lance as a friend than that Lance in his bed. 

No matter how much he aches for it.

“It’s okay.” Keith shrugs, not sure if he’s reassuring himself or Lance at this point. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

Silence falls over the room with his words, and Keith’s cracked heart sinks further behind his walls, fortifying them to protect himself from further harm. He should leave, before the rest of Lance’s family wakes up and more questions can be asked about his presence there.

About his presence in Lance’s room. All night.

He’s not sure he can withstand any more attacks on his character today. He really should leave.

Keith opens his mouth to bid Lance farewell when softly, almost too quiet to hear, Lance whispers, “And what if I did?”

Keith frowns. “Did what?”

“Mean it.”

And Keith is so taken aback by the sincerity in Lance’s voice, how his vulnerable gaze stirs a desire in him, a fiery need to please and soothe and cherish, that he bypasses the walls around his own heart in a spark of hope. “Is that something you want?”

Lance sits up, unconcerned about his lack of clothing as the sheets pool around his hips. His eyes pierce Keith’s, narrowed. “If I say yes, will you run off into space again?”

“What?” Keith stumbles over himself. He crosses his arms over his chest, discomfort increasing with his confusion.

“Last time I tried to tell you,” Lance says, glaring at Keith with a heat that both sparks fear and arousal, “you ended up flying away to far off galaxies for six months.”

Last time? _ Last time? _ There had been a last time? Does that mean there had been a _ first time?! _ Keith is so shocked, he can do nothing but gape for a moment, mouth opening and closing before releasing a sputtered jumble of broken sentences. “I—what? I didn’t—when did you—”

“My first week of teaching at the Garrison, when you came to visit during after hours.” Lance sighs, looking away toward the window, face a glow in the early morning light. He runs his fingers through his hair pushing errant strands off his forehead. “You were contemplating leaving for good, to spend the rest of your life out in space galaxy hopping, repairing planets.” He waves a flippant hand through the air. “Relief efforts.” 

When he glances back over, Keith’s heart falters at the emotion running through Lance’s eyes, raw and pure and open. “I told you, you did have a reason for coming back.” Lance chuckles, humorless before he continues, “I see that was too subtle for you.” 

And all Keith can muster is a choked-off, “Oh.” 

He was an idiot. He had been so caught up in his own head, in his own thoughts and feelings and lack of return that he hadn’t even taken Lance’s words for what they were. The confession they had been. The one thing he had been waiting for and the reason he needed to remain here on earth. 

With Lance.

Lance draws his knees to his chest then and wrapping his arms around them like he’s trying to keep himself from falling apart at the seams. “I thought you weren’t coming back,” he continues in a small voice, pained and watery at the edges and Keith’s heart cracks under the guilt. “When you left the next morning I thought that was it, that you had made your decision despite what I had said. I thought I would never see you again.”

Keith takes a hesitant step toward the bed, wanting to comfort but unsure if it’s wanted. If Lance even wants him anywhere near him anymore. But Lance just watches him through his eyelashes, chin on his knees, not making any effort to move away. Keith takes that as a good sign.

“Lance, I’m so sorry. It was hard being here. Seeing how you and Allura were still so close, I thought perhaps you were getting back together and I—” Keith sits down on the edge of the bed with a sigh. “I needed to get away.”

“You could have called!” Lance yells suddenly, throwing his arms wide with anger burning in his eyes. “Sent a message! Anything! _ I thought you were never coming back _.”

Shame burns through Keith. “I know that’s no excuse for my behavior.” And that was no way to treat your friends, not without giving them a straight answer. He should have just been honest with Lance from the beginning, told him what was wrong, how he felt. Then perhaps, all this nonsense could have been avoided. In trying to mend his own heart he had unknowingly broken Lance’s. And for that, he will never stop trying to make up for it. “I truly am sorry.”

Silence falls between them again, the tension in the room hanging above their heads, weighing down on their shoulders. Keith tries to just breathe through it, his mind whirling with ways to make this right. To soothe the scars he left on Lance’s heart. To fix what has been broken. But he’s not sure he ever can.

What if Lance is done? What if he’s over…whatever it was that he felt? That may have been Keith’s last chance at a future with Lance and he fucked it up. Royally. 

He is so stupid. 

“And for the record,” Lance interrupts Keith’s self-depreciation musing. With hesitance, Keith looks up to meet his blue gaze. It’s softer now, the anger having dissipated to a low simmering on the backburner. “Allura and I have agreed we’re better as friends. We are never getting back together.”

Illicit hope creeps up Keith’s throat and he vehemently tries to shove it back down. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he chokes out.

With a disbelieving raise of his brow, Lance chuckles. “Are you?”

Keith hesitates a beat, unsure how he should respond. “No?” He pauses, then quickly backtracks, “I mean, yes?” Lance’s brow creeps higher, amusement tugging at his lips and Keith is left feeling like he’s missing something. Something big and he just can’t seem to grasp what it is. Keith shakes his head. “Sorry, I don’t know what the correct answer is here.”

Lance runs a hand down his face but it’s not enough to wipe away the smile that has taken root. “Keith,” he whines, drawing out the vowels. “You seriously can’t be this dense.”

But somehow, Keith is and he knows he is but he just can’t figure out what Lance is trying to say. And so much for righting the wrongs he committed if he can’t even put two and two together to make any sort of sense of the world.

Lance doesn't let him stew for long. He leans across the space between them to grab a fist full of Keith’s shirt and drag him bodily toward him into a fierce, raw, unabashed kiss. 

And Keith _ finally _ understands.

He feels vulnerable and yet fortified and indestructible, breathing in time with Lance, their kiss morphing into something stronger, deeper, exposing their bleeding hearts to one another in a delicate dance of unity. Keith leans into it, relishing the sweet lingering taste of alcohol on Lance’s tongue, hands wrapping around Lance’s waist, burning where his fingers meet bare skin as he pulls Lance closer.

“Oh,” he breathes when Lance pulls away to rest his forehead against Keith’s. He’s soaring, flying on the back of elation and pure joy. This is everything, more than everything. It’s eternity, here, soaking in Lance’s warmth, his presence, his entire being. 

Keith finally knows what it feels like to be whole. To be home.

Lance chuckles. “Yeah, oh.”

And he pulls Keith back in, kissing him soft and tender in the dawn of a new day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out my Instagram for more Klance and VLD drabbles and short fics: [staymagwrites](https://www.instagram.com/staymagwrites/)

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my Instagram for more Klance and VLD drabbles and short fics: [staymagwrites](https://www.instagram.com/staymagwrites/)


End file.
